


Fucked Up...

by InsaneAndHappyAboutIt



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drunk Driving, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Taking Advantage, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 21:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12616336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneAndHappyAboutIt/pseuds/InsaneAndHappyAboutIt
Summary: "Fucked up. That about summed it. People threw that phrase around like it was the funniest thing to say but they had no idea what having a ‘fucked up’ family really was. Dylan did..."





	Fucked Up...

**Author's Note:**

> Good day to you and thank you for stopping by! XD There might be some mild spoilers for the show in this fiction but nothing that should get in the way of your viewing pleasure.   
> Either way, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!! XD

Fucked up. That about summed it. People threw that phrase around like it was the funniest thing to say but they had no idea what having a ‘fucked up’ family really was. Dylan did and the more time he spent around his insane mother and strange brother the worse things got but he was part of this. Now more than ever, he was part of this. It was his damn fault really. In hindsight he had no bloody idea what drove him to come and find his mother. If he’d had any idea how messy things would get, starting with him killing a fucking cop, then he would have happily taken on the burdens of a hobo rather than spend one day under a shared roof with his fucked up family. 

Sure, every family had problems. Nobody was perfect but they were far beyond help. Starting with his whore of a mother who had an unhealthy attraction to her own son. She thought she was hiding it so well but Dylan saw how ‘protective’ she was of him and he cringed. She was jealous anytime Norman so much as looked at another girl which was ridiculous considering she hadn’t given a shit when he’d fooled around in his youth. Hell he’d lost his virginity before he was 15 and she never even mentioned the incident but if Norman goes to a study session with a girl, which wasn’t even a euphemism, she flipped her lid. Dylan hated it but he felt some envy for the little twerp but then he saw how rigidly she sought to control him and he realised he dodged a bullet. 

And then there was Norman, the golden boy himself. Dylan liked the kid. They were as different as night and day but Dylan saw the cracks in Norman’s armour. If he said anything bad at their mother’s address Norman would chivalrously jump in to defend her but there was no real conviction in his eyes. He wanted to believe it and maybe some part of him did actually believe the ridiculous notion that their mother was just a poor widow down on her luck but a larger part of him started to doubt. Dylan had a feeling that when those cracks would start to show it would be best to stay out of the boy’s way. He looked like a crossover between a puppy and a doe but Dylan couldn’t help sometimes thinking of a predator when he looked Norman square in the eyes. 

Now he found out that his wide eyed little brother killed his own father and forgot about it. How’s that for fucked up. He wasn’t one to judge since his hands weren’t exactly stainless but at least he was in control of his own mind. What if Norman was responsible for more than one death? Maybe he did things that even their omnipresent mother wasn’t aware of? Scratch that… Dylan knew Norman did things their mother wasn’t aware of because if she was then she would come at him with a knife. 

It started a few weeks ago. Dylan could remember the event so clearly it might as well have happened a few days ago. He’d been having a rough day and showed up at the motel with a glaring bruise across his left check. He’d returned the blow with interest, his bloodied knuckles were a testament to that, but in the end the drunk loser tripped over his own two feet and hit his head on the side of bar stool after which he promptly passed out. As if all that unpleasantness wasn’t enough, he’d come home and Norma greeted him with angry admonition about his blood staining her new carpet. Nothing compared to a mother’s love, ey?... 

From the corner of his eye he saw Norman glance about like he was lost in his own kitchen or something. He knew the kid wanted to step in on his behalf but he was entirely too terrified to square off against their mother. Dylan was all too happy to leave once he slapped some ham and cheese on a piece of bread, pointedly ignoring Norma’s shrill screams that he was not to turn his back on her. When he got to his room he was so fucking done. He wolfed his pathetic dinner down, his stomach roiling and in need of something to soak up some of the alcohol, and he crashed on the bed after taking a quick shower. He was drained and it was just another of those days which seemed to happen to him all too often that he needed to forget. 

It must have been way past the middle of the night when he blinked into groggy wakefulness. Something was off. He couldn’t place his finger on the problem yet but he knew his alarm bells weren’t ringing for the fun of it. He must have been really out of it if he was so slow. A man in his chosen profession wouldn’t survive a day without faster reflexes! He knew he wasn’t alone. He hears the old floor boards creak and the door to his room close softly. That’s what woke him up and with a sudden jolt of realization all those noises fell into place and made sense. Dylan snapped in a sitting position and grabbed at whoever was standing near his bed. It was too dark to see.

‘Norman?’ He realized it was the kid when he yanked him into the light but there was something strange about the way he looked at him. Dylan let go of the thin wrist, his brain still trying to figure out why the dead look in Norman’s eyes was unsettling him so much. 

‘Well? Why are you here Norman? What’s wrong?’ 

The boy didn’t say a single word as he stepped closer to Dylan who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure what was happening which was probably why he didn’t act. He watched curiously as Norman placed a pale hand on his shoulder and knelt down, right between Dylan’s parted legs. He kept their eyes locked the whole time and Dylan felt like a frog staring at a snake. In that moment he was prey and he was paralyzed.   
He knew, he definitely knew that this was wrong but he was fascinated and still drunk. Later he would rationalise that he’d been certain the even was a dream and he’d put it out of his mind for a while. He’d deliberately try to forget about the way Norman unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled down the zip of his jeans. How his erection sprung free, entirely too hard and upright, and how Norman took the member in his mouth while still keeping eye contact. His younger brother’s lips were soft and plump and Dylan couldn’t stop groaning his approval. In that moment it didn’t matter that they were related. The only important thing was getting that hot mouth to swallow more of him. 

When Dylan would revisit that surrealist dream he’d had, he’d recall how good Norman was at sucking his cock. That was why he was convinced this was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. There was no way in hell Norman would have that much experience doing something so out of his comfort zone. The kid gave head better than half the lovers he’d had in his own life and that was high praise considering Dylan’s sexual history. He’d vaguely remember coming inside the warm mouth and then going back to sleep. 

The next morning he’d woken in a cold sweat, not entirely sure if what had happened really had been a dream. He’d spent a good half hour freckling out in his room, tormented by the horrific idea that his brother gave him a blowjob, before he tentatively stepped out and nearly ran into Norman who had been sent by their mother to wake him up for breakfast.

‘Oh, sorry. I was just coming over to wake you up… for breakfast. Mother sent me.’ Dylan stared at the other, searching for any hint of irregular behaviour but he looked the exact same to Dylan. Then again, most of the behaviours Norman had could be considered irregular… 

‘Right, of course she did and we wouldn’t want her royal highness to be left waiting.’ Immediately he saw Norman’s eyes darken as he prepared to jump in on Norma’s behalf. 

‘She spent the whole morning cooking for us. She was just worried about you… after last night.’ Dylan would have to be blackout drunk before he would ever believe that pile of horse shit. Norma couldn’t care less about him but she did care about her image as a caring mother. 

‘If that’s what you say…’ It was the nicest thing Dylan was going to say and Norman knew it so he turned to leave. ‘Hey Norman?’ 

‘Yes?’ The kid half turned and Dylan took a steadying breath though it did absolutely nothing for his nerves.

‘Do you remember last night?’ 

‘Remember what? I never left my room.’ Dylan didn’t say anything for a moment until he was certain Norman was telling the truth. Norman was a terrible liar and as far as he could tell the boy utterly believed what he’d just said. That settled it then. It had all been a fucked up, shameful dream which was better forgotten. 

‘Never mind. I thought I saw you sneaking out of the motel property but it must have just been someone who looked like you. I was pretty drunk and all.’ 

‘Ok.’ And that was that. They walked to the kitchen together, each mentally readying themselves to deal with their mother and life went on as usual. 

It could have all ended there but then something else happened roughly a week later. Once again Dylan and Norma were arguing about something. He called her a whore she said she regretted ever giving birth to him. That one always hurt the most. Dylan could swallow down almost every insult his mother threw at him but regrets about his birth always rankled him. He remembered clenching his jaw so harshly it clicked. He’d been ready to do something unforgivable in that moment under the influence of hot rage but Norman walked in and his huge doe eyes settled on Dylan. It was like the kid was imploring him to stop before things crossed the line and Dylan felt his anger ebb away. He scowled in Norma’s direction and walked out. 

Dylan took a drive to the nearest bar and had a few but he didn’t get pissed. He had a big job the next day and he couldn’t afford a drumming hangover if he had to deal with Zane. Instead he drove to the motel, actually managing to keep to his side of the lane most of the time, and found his way to his room. He took a minute to collect himself, his back pressed against the door, as he listened to the sound of his own heart in the dark. That absolute silence was the only reason he heard the soft steps coming towards him. In an instant Dylan flipped the switches and light flooded his room. 

‘Norman? What the fuck are you doing lurking in the shadows like that? I could have shot you!’ Zane had a shitload of enemies after all and most weren’t above paying him a home visit. Norman only stared fixedly at him and Dylan felt his stomach drop as that dream came back to the foremost of his mind. 

‘Norman? Can you hear me?’ This time he knew with absolute certainty he was awake and he remembered Norma telling him about his brother’s ‘episodes’. 

Norman looked like he was in a trance and Dylan wondered if he should get their mother. She’d dealt with this before and she probably knew what to do but something stopped Dylan from doing the obviously right thing. He didn’t move from the door when the younger man moved to stand inches away from him. Nor when Norman slowly lowered himself to the ground and began opening his trousers. It was all playing out frame by frame just like before except that this time Dylan had no excuse for letting it happen. He couldn’t plead ignorance or intoxication. He had to come face to face with the harsh reality… He wanted this. He wanted his golden brother to suck his cock. 

Dylan pushed the other’s head down and guided it along his length, marvelling at how silky smooth his hair was. Everything about Norman was smooth and soft and so unlike him. How was it possible that they shared one mother? Norman was even more enthusiastic than before, at this point Dylan was convinced he hadn’t dreamed the previous event, and Dylan felt his orgasm come rushing towards him like a freight train. His fist balled so tightly he was sure he’d yanked a good few strands of Norman’s hair. The other didn’t complain. 

Silence fell over the room as Dylan regained his breath and when he felt like himself again he realized Norman was still kneeling before him. It was like the other was waiting for instructions. He gently tugged at the hair still caught between his fingers and Norman stood up. Dylan couldn’t believe how tall he’d gotten during the time he’d been away but standing face to face with him was a good reminder. 

‘What now Norman? Did you think this far ahead? Fuck, you probably can’t even hear me-‘ 

He was starting to freak out but before the panic could take a proper hold of him Norman pressed their lips together. Dylan’s eyes went impossibly wide as his brain struggled to process this new strange turn of events. All he could think was ‘What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!’ so why did he kiss Norman back? Damn, his lips really were soft, as soft as a girl’s and Dylan could taste something salty on the other’s tongue. It took him a moment to realize he was tasting himself and another moment to realize he wasn’t repulsed. If anything he was getting turned on. 

Just as suddenly as it started it ended. Norman took a step back and his eyes lost any semblance of focus. By the time Dylan understood something was different Norman was already crashing to the floor like so much dead weight. After cursing up a storm, Dylan pulled himself together and hoisted his brother onto the bed. He’d been too anxious to sleep and spent the whole night staring at Norman sleeping oh so peacefully. There was no way he could sweep this under the rug. He could never again pretend to be normal, whatever the fuck that was. He was damaged goods alright, just like Norma kept telling him. He really hated when she was right…

When morning came and Norman awoke he once more had no recollection of the previous night. He asked Dylan why he was sleeping in his room and the other came up with some bullshit story about Norman sleepwalking and showing up at his door. It wasn’t entirely a lie… but it sounded far more innocent than the whole truth. Either way, Norman took the explanation at face value and once more life went on. 

Except after that night the visits became more common. Dylan could predict when Norman would show up and he even went out of his way to trigger those zombie like blackouts. He was past pretending he didn’t want Norman in his room. He was fucked up but at least he was man enough to accept it. Dylan quickly realised the trigger was him being upset. Norma always claimed her darling boy was a protector at heart and Dylan was inclined to agree. Whenever Norman saw his older brother get verbally abuse or show up with cuts and bruises, Dylan could be sure he’d have company later that night. 

For the first month he would have to get nice and drunk before he went out and got hurt on purpose because he would have to silence that part of himself which was still somewhat moral. He was taking advantage of Norman, plain and simple. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t really that bad since Norman came to him. He never showed up at Norman’s door so obviously the kid wanted this, even if he couldn’t deal with it and his subconscious chose to forget. There had to be some inner, instinctive desire at play. It was the only way Dylan could still look at his brother during the day and not suffer a mental breakdown. 

They’d never gone all the way. Dylan wanted to, oh heavens help him he wanted to push Norman on his back and have his wicked way with him all night long but he wasn’t that far gone that he would force himself on the other. Norman never spoke when he was in his trance but his actions let Dylan know exactly what he wanted and how far he was willing to go. So far they’d done just about anything except have sex. It was only a matter of time though… And if Dylan wasn’t so fucked up he would probably be repulsed at how eager he was. 

He had to wait less than he’d hoped but it came with a heavy price. It was the day he’d found out the reason behind his wretched existence. It was the rotten cherry on top of the spoiled cake. He was a product of rape. What was more, he was a product of incestuous rape and when he heard that so many pieces fell into place. It made sense now why Norma hated him so. It made sense why he’d always felt like an outsider and why he could never quite bring himself to really love his supposed father. It made sense why he yearned for his brother in a decisively incestuous way. He was his father’s son apparently and the thought made his stomach roil.

He couldn’t stand another second in that place. He couldn’t look at his mother without feeling bitterness choke him and rage threaten to explode in a blood red burst. He had to get away or he was going to end up in jail again. He all but ran out of there turning a deaf ear to Norma’s pleas for him to come back. He just got into his car and drove out of the lot, no clear destination in mind. Just before he hit the road he saw Norman standing by the Bates Motel sign. The blue light shrouded him and he looked almost ethereal. Had Dylan not known better he would have assumed the boy was a ghost come from beyond the grave to torment him. 

Dylan planned to deal with this new crisis the same way that he always did. He was going to get locked on the cheapest bottle of hard spirit he could get his hands on and then he would pass out and for a few hours he would forget everything, good and bad. He stopped at a random liquor store and put his plan into action. Normally he would opt to sleep in his car but if he planned to get as wrecked as he definitely was going to get then he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t try and do something stupid. He was already considering running his father over and the only thing holding him back was his sobriety. Without that he would definitely wake up in jail. He rented a room in some cheap, run down motel, the name of which he would never actually remember. 

The room he rented was cheap so naturally it was messy and barely furnished. Dylan didn’t care as long as there was a bed and a functional toilet. He didn’t bother with a glass. He downed the rum like a pirate with absolutely no spare thought for the consequences sure to come. Dylan was in the mood to forget. He drank until he couldn’t think straight. He just felt. He felt rage and lust and loneliness. He felt fucking disillusioned and betrayed and it was stupid. Norma never acted like a mother so why was he so fucking sad? 

When the knock at his door came he was barely standing up. The room was spinning violently and he walked to the door through sheer force of will. He wasn’t surprised to find Norman on the other side. He had no idea how his brother found him but he was there and that was all that mattered. Dylan grabbed his shirt and pulled him inside the room before he slammed the smaller body harshly against the door. The force of the impact rattled the walls and something fell in the bathroom. 

‘Why do you keep coming back Norman? Answer me! Do you enjoy seeing me at my lowest? Is that it?! You’re here to fuck with my mind. Well congrats little brother. You’re going to get exactly what you want!’ 

Dylan threw the other across the bed. Fortunately the target was large enough that even in his state he couldn’t miss it. Norman stared silently at him as he spread his legs and arms in open invitation. Dylan was on him then. He couldn’t think straight anymore. He just had a need which had to be sated. He was pretty sure he heard the sound of clothes ripping under his fingers but he didn’t stop. Norman could walk home naked for all he cared, at least that’s what his rage and alcohol fuelled brain told him. 

‘You two were always so close… It makes sense now. I never stood a chance with Norma, not when she had you around! Did you laugh about me behind my back? Did you think it was funny to see me try over and over and fail every time to be part of our fucked up little family?! Answer me Norman!!’ 

But of course there was no answer. Dylan pushed his own trousers down his thighs and pulled Norman’s willing body closer to him. The warmth of skin on skin contact sent a jolt through him. He’d been too numb to realize how cold he was but the heat radiating from Norman was so comforting he felt tears sting at his eyes. Long legs wrapped around his waist and Dylan fell on top of Norman, managing to break his fall with his hands at the last second. Norman twisted his hands around his neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. A whimper mingled with the passion and Dylan realized he was making the noise. He sounded more like a wounded animal than a man. 

His body moved against the one under him, chests sliding against one another, hips rubbing together, limbs grabbing and holding onto anything that offered the tiniest hint of support. Dylan was led by Norman. He bit his lip as he felt hot kisses pepper his throat and the legs crosses around his lower back were pulling him inside the fleshy warmth. It was all consuming and Dylan felt like he was burning up. He was cleansed of everything inside him by Norman’s fire, leaving him a hollow shell. It felt great not give a shit for a few hours. It felt fucking fantastic.

Dylan gasped against Norman’s collar bone as he came, the wave of guilty pleasure washing over him like a tsunami. It dosed out the cathartic fire and Dylan could already feel reality return to him and with it the nauseating knowledge that he’d done something unforgivable. Norman kept running his fingers through his hair, just like Norma used to when he was little. It was such an odd thing to recall but it calmed him. He felt the pull of sleep and he didn’t resist it. He mumbled something but the words didn’t make sense to his own ears. He thought he said he was sorry but he would never be sure. 

He blacked out, his frame still pressed against Norman’s. When he woke up he was alone. There was no sign that Norman had ever been there and if it wasn’t for his own nakedness he might have chocked it up to his overactive imagination again. His head was killing him and his stomach was twisting and turning like a fish out of water. He stumbled out of the bed and just made it to the toiled before he got sick. He was going to regret that drunken night for a long time, for more than one reason. 

‘Fucked up. So fucked up…’


End file.
